


Lifelines

by fuzipenguin



Series: Full Spectrum [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships, Other, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6238207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet keeps learning more about Sideswipe's needs as a sub</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifelines

                Ever since Sideswipe had flashbacked so spectacularly, Ratchet had been very careful with him. Their discussions before every session were particularly detailed, almost script-like. The positions that Ratchet put him in were often ones which left Sideswipe in control, and they hadn’t used bindings that Sideswipe couldn’t break in an instant.

                A part of him was a little insulted, but the greater portion of his processor was absurdly grateful. That flashback had been… well, he didn’t even know if ‘bad’ covered it. He never wanted to do that again, but unfortunately, many of the things he asked Ratchet to do to him reflected quite a bit onto his and Sunny’s sordid history. Funny how the mind worked sometimes.

                But Ratchet was a good top, although Sideswipe only really had himself to compare to. There had always been a foundation of trust between them, but Sideswipe respected him even more for the preparation work he did to ensure Sideswipe’s comfort. And of course the attention Ratchet provided during sessions.

                Today’s scene was progressing nicely. It was a relatively simple task to overload Ratchet using only his valve, even with Sideswipe’s arms behind his back. He knew how to move and work his port to milk the most pleasure out of his partner, and he was strong enough to rise and fall atop another mech for at least an hour.

                The sensation coursing through him as he impaled himself over and over again was a nice bonus, but the true pleasure was watching bliss crawl across Ratchet’s face. To feel his fingers needfully clench on Sideswipe’s hip or against his chestplate where one hand was planted to help support Sideswipe’s natural lean forward.

                “That’s it, boy,” Ratchet murmured, thumb stroking Sideswipe’s lower belly. “Keep moving… just like that.”

                Sideswipe preened, throwing in an extra little shimmy just to watch Ratchet’s optics gleam. “Yes, sir.”

                He had been a little surprised to find out just how much he liked praise. Not enough to really get him where he wanted his head to be, but enough to work for it at every opportunity.

                “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” Sideswipe continued, grinding down and rippling his calipers in a way that he knew always made his partner’s spark skip a beat.

                Unfortunately he missed the reaction he’d been hoping to provoke as Sunstreaker abruptly spoke up across their bond.

                _How are you doing? Everything ok?_

                Ugh. Sideswipe adored his brother more than words could describe, but his protectiveness was verging on stifling. Sunstreaker hadn’t wanted Sideswipe to continue seeing Ratchet. It was hard for him to separate the medic from the flashback which had caused Sideswipe to reach out, screaming, for his twin in a state of panic.

                He’d reluctantly accepted Sideswipe’s decision to continue, because Ratchet was the only mech that they knew of with even a remote chance of giving Sideswipe what he needed, but Sunstreaker continually checked in periodically during their sessions. Usually at the worst possible times.

                _I’m good. No worries_ , Sideswipe replied, doing his best to keep his reply light. It wouldn’t do to reward his brother’s concern with anger or irritation. He only wanted to ensure Sideswipe was safe and comfortable, after all.

                “What’s wrong?” Ratchet asked, his grip on Sideswipe’s hip tightening.

                Damn it. Ratchet watched him like a turbo hawk anymore, so he’d probably seen the flash of exasperation cross Sideswipe’s face.

                “Nothing, sir,” he replied, subtly trying to move out from under Ratchet’s hold and continue rocking atop the other mech’s spike.

                “Yellow,” Ratchet said firmly. “Talk to me. I saw that look on your face. What did it mean?”

                Sideswipe ex-vented a short gust of air and settled his aft atop Ratchet’s thighs, his spike snug within Sideswipe’s valve. “Just Sunstreaker, sir. Being nosy. Would you like me to keep going?”

                Ratchet’s forehelm crinkled in thought as he stared up at Sideswipe. “No. I want to take a pause. We’re not at red just yet, but I do want to speak to you honestly and have you reply the same, all right?”

                “Yes, sir,” Sideswipe said, sighing again. All right. That was it. After this session, he was having a serious talk with his twin about untimely interruptions.

                “You may speak freely. Is your bond with Sunstreaker open all the time?” Ratchet questioned, surprising Sideswipe a little. That wasn’t the question he had been expecting.

                “Yeah. We narrow it sometimes, like now or when we’re fighting, but it’s rare for us to block the other out 100%,” Sideswipe replied. Where exactly was Ratchet going with this? What did Sunstreaker’s nosiness have to do with Sideswipe getting Ratchet off?

                Ratchet nodded thoughtfully. “All right. This isn’t a command, just a suggestion. When you’re in scene, I think you should block him out completely.”

                “Completely?” Sideswipe repeated, stiffening at the foreign thought. “Like all the way?”

                “Generally the definition of the word, yes,” Ratchet said with a small quirk of his lips. “Do you trust me?”

                Sideswipe blinked down at the other mech, feeling like maybe this talk should wait until they were done. He squirmed a little, hoping to distract Ratchet and get back on track. “Course.”

                “Do you?” Ratchet pressed. “Because if you truly did, I wouldn’t think you’d need Sunstreaker’s support in the back of your head. Not when _I_ was right here in front of you.”

                Sideswipe’s glossa darted out to wet suddenly dry lips. He trusted Ratchet with his life on a daily basis. Pit, with Sunstreaker’s life! It wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion on Ratchet’s part at all. So why did it fill Sideswipe with terror?

                “Woah, woah, Sideswipe,” Ratchet murmured reassuringly, struggling to sit up beneath Sideswipe’s weight. “Just an idea, remember, I’m not telling you or even asking you to do it right now. Calm down, Sides.”

                Sideswipe realized that he was shaking, his fingers digging into his own forearms and his thighs clamped tight around Ratchet’s hips. His ventilations were harsh and ragged, and he met Ratchet’s gaze with a wide-opticked stare.

                “I… I ssshould,” Sideswipe stuttered. “You’re right. That’s what you’re… you’re here for. To take care of me.”

                Ratchet’s arms encircled Sideswipe’s waist and a hand began stroking his lower back. “Yes, Sides, I _will_ take care of you. I know it’s hard to give up control, to close off that one last lifeline. But I don’t think you’re going to reach that headspace you want otherwise. I could beat you or I could worship you, but none of it’s going to really get you there unless you completely give yourself over to me. And to do that, you have to let go of Sunstreaker,” he explained earnestly.

                It made sense. Sunstreaker placed himself completely within Sideswipe’s care and experienced not only great overloads, but a peace he couldn’t find elsewhere. Sideswipe on the other hand, routinely screamed out his pleasure beneath Ratchet’s hands yet still walked away from their sessions yearning for something more. He thought it had been because they just hadn’t done the right scenario, but maybe Ratchet was right. Maybe Sideswipe’s unconscious reliance on Sunstreaker was holding him back.

                But could he really let Sunny go?

                “Shhh…” Ratchet murmured, gripping the back of Sideswipe’s helm in order to pull him down into a kiss. Ratchet’s glossa licked across the seam of Sideswipe’s lips, asking for permission, and he willingly let Ratchet in.

                Ratchet explored his mouth, glossa thrusting in slowly, and reigniting the fire in the core of Sideswipe’s belly. He whimpered against Ratchet’s lips, hips rolling and stirring Ratchet’s now softer spike within the depths of Sideswipe’s valve.

                This was easy. This was simple. He wanted this, instead of thinking about cutting Sunstreaker out.

                “That’s it,” Ratchet whispered, breaking away to nibble down Sideswipe’s jaw to his throat. “Good boy… ride me. Whenever you’re ready, it’s ok.”

                --

                He shouldn’t have mentioned it. Or at least not in the middle of a session. Ratchet knew how close the twins were, knew how much they depended on one another. He should have anticipated the concept of blocking Sunstreaker out would have raised some doubts and worries within Sideswipe.

                He also should have remembered that Sideswipe pushed himself like no other submissive Ratchet had ever worked with. Ratchet had assumed Sideswipe would mull the idea over, come to him before a future session and discuss how it would all work so that he, Ratchet, and even Sunstreaker were comfortable with the idea.

                But no. Sideswipe had to decide to block out his twin barely five minutes after Ratchet had proposed the idea.

                Ratchet didn’t even notice at first. Sideswipe had thrown himself back into riding Ratchet’s spike with a vengeance as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Ratchet had encouraged it with murmured praise and soft touches, willing to let Sideswipe get lost in familiar sensation instead of thinking too hard. And of course, Sideswipe’s body was pure sin, so Ratchet was willing to resume getting a little lost himself.

                So when Sideswipe shuddered mightily, Ratchet didn’t think much of it. He also didn’t make much of the whimpers Sideswipe started producing. It was only when Sideswipe called out Ratchet’s full name that he really took notice. Sideswipe had only ever broke character during his flashback, so to hear him drop the ‘sir’ without provocation made Ratchet’s optic shutters fly open.

                He saw Sideswipe looking utterly lost and confused, and it only took an instant for Ratchet to realize what Sideswipe had done. Ratchet sat upright once more, immediately pressing Sideswipe’s trembling body to his.

                “Oh, you silly boy,” Ratchet murmured, encouraging the frantic motion of Sideswipe’s hips with one hand on his lower back. “You’re doing so well. You’re not alone, Sideswipe. I have you, and I want you to overload for me. Can you do that? You can take care of me after.”

                “Please, sir!” Sideswipe cried out, burying his face against Ratchet’s shoulder.

                “Yes, yes, Sides, overload for me. Come on my spike. Tell me how good it feels,” Ratchet instructed. He slid his left hand down his own abdomen, slipping it between Sideswipe’s thighs to brush two digit tips over his pulsing anterior node. Sideswipe moaned, grinding down against both spike and fingers.

                “Good… so good, sir…,” Sideswipe panted, leaning heavily against Ratchet’s chest. It was like the other mech was trying to burrow closer, even as he continually rocked himself towards climax. “I’m gonna… can I…?”

                “Overload for me. I got you, I’m not letting go,” Ratchet promised, pressing hard against the heated nub beneath his fingertips.

                Sideswipe cried out wordlessly, ventilations hot and harsh against Ratchet’s audial. “Oh, Primus. _Primus_ … keep me, sir, please… keep me…”

                “I have you,” Ratchet repeated, tightening the arm he had around Sideswipe’s waist. As if that was some signal, Sideswipe overloaded, stiffening with a thin wail and valve clamping down around Ratchet’s spike in spastic waves.

                Even as he twitched in spasms of pleasure, Sideswipe continued to try and wriggle closer, whimpering and whining and doing his apparent best to break Ratchet’s spark.

                “Don’t let go, please don’t let go,” Sideswipe chanted, the words barely audible and rushing out of Sideswipe as if he didn’t even know he were saying them. “Keep me, sir, keep me, keep me…”

                “I will. If we’re in session, you have all of me,” Ratchet urgently whispered back. “I’m yours, I’ll take care of you, and give you anything you need. I won’t let you go, just like I won’t let you go now.”

                Sideswipe keened, blindly shoving up against Ratchet hard enough that his back gave under the pressure and he collapsed backward onto the berth. Sideswipe followed him, Ratchet’s spike slipping loose as Sideswipe practically crawled atop Ratchet’s front and attempted to curl up there.

                Ratchet managed to slide his hand free, now freely coated in Sideswipe’s lubricants. He wrapped both arms around Sideswipe’s back, holding him tightly enough to make Sideswipe’s plating creak in protest. And yet Sideswipe still moved fitfully, trying to get even closer.

                “Hold me,” Ratchet instructed, realizing Sideswipe still had his arms behind his back.

                The warrior frantically shook his head, still buried in Ratchet’s shoulder. “… you, sir… please… keep me.”

                “I am, I am, I have you,” Ratchet replied, a little confused. It took several moments, but he finally realized what was going on inside the warrior’s head. Sideswipe needed to know that Ratchet was the initiator and not just allowing Sideswipe to cling. Well, that was easy enough.

                Still whispering reassurances, Ratchet rolled them both to their sides with some effort. Sideswipe’s legs automatically straightened, and Ratchet continued the roll, lying three quarters of the way atop of the other mech and blanketing him with Ratchet’s wider and heavier frame. Almost immediately, Sideswipe’s louder keens quieted, into tiny little mewls of effort escaping with every rushed ventilation.

                “I’ve got you, I have you,” Ratchet continued to say, finally maneuvering them enough to see Sideswipe’s face. He kept trying to duck down and hide his tightly shuttered optics, but Ratchet used his own helm to nudge Sideswipe’s head up and back. He kissed the other mech; on the mouth, the cheeks, the nasal ridge, basically anywhere he could reach while Sideswipe continued to restlessly squirm.

                “I’m here for you,” Ratchet murmured against Sideswipe’s lips, the soft pliable metal vibrating with his continued shivers.

                “You won’t let me go?” Sideswipe whimpered piteously, causing Ratchet’s spark to clench.

                Sideswipe thought he had needed to be beaten? Strung up? Ratchet had been willing enough because some mechs _did_ need that. But maybe all Sideswipe had needed was this. Someone other than his twin who was unconditionally there for him, at least during a scene.

                “Not during this session, no,” Ratchet immediately responded.

                Sideswipe rattled out a sigh and went limp.

                Ratchet nearly had a spark attack and only repeated scans managed to reassure himself that the other mech hadn’t spontaneously offlined. But no, Sideswipe’s spark was still beating strongly, although finally starting to slow. As Ratchet gazed upon Sideswipe’s face, he watched the warrior’s expression smooth out. Dazed optics opened and looked up at Ratchet, the red twin’s lower jaw dropping open slightly.

                “Good boy… good, Sideswipe,” Ratchet praised, stroking the other mech’s cheek as every remaining tense inch of him uncoiled completely.

                “I… good? … sir? I should…” Sideswipe shifted a bit, one of his thighs nudging Ratchet’s. He remembered he had told the other mech he could be taken care of after Sideswipe overloaded. But Ratchet’s pleasure definitely took second tier to what he suspected was Sideswipe’s first true subspace.

                “Later, Sides, later,” Ratchet soothed. “Just lie there for a bit, close your optics for me, ok?”

                Sideswipe immediately did as asked, his ventilations starting to quiet. “… yes, sir.”

                “Good. Good. Just come up at your own pace, there’s no rush,” Ratchet murmured, pressing chaste kisses to Sideswipe’s cheeks. The warrior sighed again, snuggling closer and Ratchet settled in to wait for as long as he needed to.

\--

                It was a good thing he was used to sharing small spaces and even smaller berths because the heavy weight atop him was almost stifling. He didn’t notice it as first, but as time slipped by, he became more and more aware of being practically buried beneath another.

                Sideswipe wriggled his nasal ridge and rubbed his face against his own shoulder before mumbling a complaint. “Geroff me.”

                The frame atop his shifted slightly, sliding partially down his right side instead of directly atop him. “That better?”

                And that totally wasn’t Sunstreaker’s voice. Or the hum of his engine, or scent of his favorite wax, or anything else that easily identified his twin to Sideswipe.

                He fought to open his optics, finally cracking the shutters to see Ratchet’s face staring down at him. Oh yeah… Ratchet. Sideswipe blinked sleepily, his entire frame feeling like it was internally weighted down. Oddly enough his processor felt the same, sluggish and unresponsive.

                “Better,” he replied. Then he came to another realization. “Ratchet?”

                “Yes, Sideswipe?”

                “I was in subspace,” he announced. And woah. This was what Sunny felt? No wonder he was always so eager for a session.

                Ratchet smiled, a crease between his optics smoothing out. “I thought as much. Anything I can do for you?”

                Sideswipe thought about it for a moment. Then a moment longer. Wow, his processor was running as if it was slogging through mud. But he didn’t exactly mind. “No. I don’t think so… my arms hurt.”     

                “I’m not surprised. You’ve been holding them this entire time,” Ratchet replied, sliding a hand up Sideswipe’s back and tapping his left elbow.

                “I have? Oh. Huh. I think I’m stuck,” Sideswipe admitted.

                Ratchet moved to sit up and an unbidden whine rose up in the back of Sideswipe’s throat, a dull surge of panic washing over him.

                “Shhh… I’m not going anywhere,” Ratchet said, propping himself up on his hip. He pulled on Sideswipe’s upper thigh and shoulder, rolling him onto his side. Sideswipe moved as if he were a doll, limp and pliant under Ratchet’s guiding hands. “I’m just going to help you get unstuck.”

                “Ok,” Sideswipe murmured, letting his optics dim and Ratchet guide his arms back to his sides. As long as the medic didn’t leave, he could do anything he wanted as far as Sideswipe was concerned.

                “Am I shivering? Sunny always gets cold,” he informed Ratchet as the medic maneuvered Sideswipe onto his back, arms now flopped across his belly. If he were shivering, he’d need a blanket, and Sunny’s blanket was very far away in their quarters. Did Ratchet have a blanket?

                “You’re not shivering,” Ratchet replied, lying back against Sideswipe’s side, a leg thrown over his. And that was nice. He liked the feel of Ratchet’s body partially over his, warm and big and protective. “Core temperature is at the high end of the normal range.”

                Sideswipe turned his face, snuggling it against Ratchet’s shoulder. “Ok. That’s good, I guess. Now what do I do?”

                Ratchet rumbled a small chuckle. “What do you want to do?”

                “Mmm…” Sideswipe hummed while considering the question. “Lay here. You won’t leave, right?”

                “No. I’ll be right here at your side,” Ratchet said, soothingly rubbing Sideswipe’s abdomen.

                Sideswipe’s optic shutters closed again, and he nodded happily. “Good.” Then… “I want Sunny. Not right now. But soon. Is that okay?”

                The back of his head was eerily silent, even though his spark felt full as always. And while the cottony feeling inside his brain was nice, he desperately missed that background murmur of his twin. Ratchet’s presence would stave off the desire for his brother for only a little while longer.

                “That’s fine. He’s been wanting you too; commed me not long after you blocked him out, understandably disturbed. A little warning might have been nice, you know,” Ratchet softly chided.

                Sideswipe’s forehelm creased at the gentle reprimand. “Told him. And you said whenever I was ready.”

                Ratchet huffed a small, exasperated ex-vent. “I meant for a future session, Sides. But it worked out fine. We’ll plan a little more thoroughly next time though, hmm?”

                “Yeah. Ok,” Sideswipe agreed.

                Bad Sideswipe. He knew better, he really did, but it had come down to a ‘now or never’ mentality and he had acted rashly. Things had gone well, considering how he felt now, but as memories started to surface, Sideswipe realized that it hadn’t been fair to just dump all that on Ratchet.

                And he _had_ given Sunstreaker warning. He had just protested the idea so much that Sideswipe had finally ended up blocking him half out of sheer spite. Sideswipe would likely get punched for that one. But he’d probably get cuddles first, which was what really mattered.

                “I wanna merge with Sunny while we’re both like this,” Sideswipe suddenly said as the thought randomly popped inside his head. “Bounce it back and forth and just drown in it. That’d be nice. I love him. I love him so much.”

                Annnnnd not even a proper subspace stopped Sideswipe from talking during aftercare. Good to know.

                “I know you do, Sides,” Ratchet said, leaning down to kiss him on the forehelm.

                Sideswipe smiled, an expression he was sure was pretty dopey. “You’re really good at this. Thank you.”

                “You’re very welcome, Sideswipe.”

                “And if you ever want me to return the favor, you just let me know. I could rock your world,” Sideswipe added as the warm embrace of recharge started to enfold him. “Mmm. Sunny now.”

                The frame pressed against his shook in silent laughter, but Sideswipe didn’t take offense. He was far too comfortable to do anything but float.

                And then there was heat at his back and love in his head and two embraces carried him into the darkness.

               

 ~ End


End file.
